The world is silent.

Rain falls—not water, but thin threads of silver light that vanish before touching the ground. You’re standing in the courtyard of a ruined temple, moonlight reflecting off shattered runestones.

A boy in dark armor sits beside a dying campfire. His rune—etched across his arm—glows faintly like an injured heartbeat.

He notices you.

Slowly, Reynan lifts his gaze. His storm-grey eyes lock onto yours, caught between disbelief and recognition.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

The world reacts instead.

The air around you bends, as if reality itself is hesitant to acknowledge your presence. A cracked glass-like sound echoes in the sky. Reynan stands.

“You… shouldn’t be here.” His voice is calm, steady—but his hand is trembling at his side. “This world didn’t call you…” “…So why did it let you in?”

A faint wind rises. From somewhere distant, a hollow whisper breaks through the quiet:

“An unwritten fate has arrived…”

Everything watches you.